


the sun will rise

by hanthelibrarian



Series: IT Tumblr Fics [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Best Friends, Birdwatching, Early Mornings, For a Friend, Friendship, Gen, Mike and Stan are friends, Mike is afraid of birds, Prompt from friend, Stan & Mike go birdwatching, Stan helps him out, Tenderness, Tumblr Prompt, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24796468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanthelibrarian/pseuds/hanthelibrarian
Summary: Stan goes birdwatching every Sunday morning. Almost every Loser has accompanied him at one point or another; every Loser except for Mike. Stan worries that maybe it's not the birdwatching that Mike doesn't care for, maybe it's Stan himself.
Relationships: Mike Hanlon & Stanley Uris, Stanley Uris & Mike Hanlon
Series: IT Tumblr Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751323
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	the sun will rise

**Author's Note:**

> A request from a friend of mine: Stan helps Mike with his fear of birds.
> 
> There needs to be more Stan/Mike friendship content!

Stan has always spent the beginning hours of his Sundays in the Barrens, binoculars hanging around his neck like a lucky charm. Sometimes he’ll invite the others with him and sometimes one or two of them will agree to come. Most of the time, however, he’s alone. He enjoys being alone out in the woods, being around nature without someone else there making noise or distracting him. That isn’t to say that he doesn’t enjoy having a friend with him; almost every Loser has ventured into the Barrens with him at the crack of dawn so he could watch a chimney swift flutter along the horizon, the light from the sunrise catching the shading on its wings in just the right way. The only one who hasn’t joined him for early morning bird watching, now that he’s thinking about it, is Mike.

Mike’s never outright refused to join Stan; he just always seems to have something else that he needs to do. One week it was helping his grandfather stack haybales in the barn. Another week it was his turn to check on the newborn lambs. He’s started to notice, however, that Mike has begun running out of excuses. Recently, he’s just been leaving once Stan brings up birdwatching. If Stan didn’t know any better, he’d think that it was something to do with him specifically, that Mike didn’t like him. But he knows, from countless hours hanging out with Mike, that that isn’t the case so this week, he’s determined to learn what’s really going on.

It’s a Friday afternoon; they’re all at the clubhouse, Richie and Eddie draped over each other in the hammock and Bill, Bev, and Ben playing one of the many board games that are stored in their underground shelter. Mike is sitting next to him on the dirt floor, a book held loosely in his hands. Stan can’t see what book is here from this angle but he knows it’s probably one that he’s never read. Where Bill likes to make up stories, weaving tales of adventure, heartache, and more, Mike likes to read such stories. Whenever he isn’t running down the road into the Barrens with the Losers or helping his grandfather on the farm, he’s reading. Stan admires him for it, really. It’s not that much different from how Stan is about birds or how Ben is about New Kidz on the Block, although he likes to deny it as much as he can. Each of the Losers has their _thing_ and Stan likes to learn as much as he can about each one, feeling it gives him a deeper look into who his friends are on the inside.

Mike turns to him suddenly, whispering something that Stan can’t quite hear. He leans closer, their faces close enough for Stan to see the length of his eyelashes and wow, he’s never noticed it before but Mike has really long eyelashes. His friend whispers to him again and he catches it this time or at least, he thinks he does.

“Could I go birdwatching with you on Sunday?”

Stan leans back, his mouth hanging open. When Mike gives him a withering look, he quickly shuts it. “I didn’t think you wanted to come with me.”

Mike shrugs, looking away. “I didn’t but now I do.”

He doesn’t say anything else as he gets up except to say goodbye to everyone. As he starts to climb the ladder, he looks at Stan and cocks his head questioningly. Stan nods and smiles a little; he doesn’t know why Mike never wanted to go before but he’s glad he wants to go now.

A couple days pass and it’s early Sunday morning, the sky still dark although Stan can see faint tendrils of light creeping up over the horizon. He doesn’t have to get up this early to go birdwatching but there’s something serene about the sun rising and waking up all the creatures in the forest. He’s riding his bike, slower than he usually would with his friends since it’s still dark outside, and he doesn’t think. His mind is blank except for the appreciation of the sky, the air, the faint noises around him. This, right here, makes getting up so early worth it.

As he gets closer to the clubhouse, his usual starting point for birdwatching, he remembers that he never told Mike what time to meet him there. He probably already knows because of the many offers to join before but the thought still lingers in the back of Stan’s mind. That is, until he sees Mike there, eyes half-shut as he leans against his bike, trying to stay awake.

“You made it,” Stan says, a smile forming at the sight of his friend. Some part of him had worried that Mike wouldn’t show at all. He’s glad that part of him was wrong.

Mike yawns and waves at him sleepily. “’Course I made it, you’re one of my best friends, Stan. I’m not gonna stand you up.”

The thought of Mike seeing Stan as one of his best friends sends a jolt of happiness through him. Sometimes he feels like he’s expendable to the group but then one of the Losers, this time Mike, reminds him that he’s important.

The two of them leave their bikes by the clubhouse entrance; Mike leans his against a tree while Stan takes the time to set up the kickstand and carefully stand his bike up. They make their way toward Stan’s favorite birdwatching spot; as they do, Stan hands Mike his extra pair of binoculars, ones he keeps for when any of his friends take him up on his offer. Mike looks at the tool in his hand and gets a tense look on his face.

“Everything okay, Mike?” Worry bleeds into Stan’s voice, no matter how much he tries to mask it.

“I just-“ Mike cuts himself off, breathing deep before continuing. “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

Stan lifts his hand to Mike’s shoulder, smiling softly at his friend. “Promise.”

“I’m afraid of birds.”

Stan stops walking. Shame rushes through him; he shouldn’t have tried so hard to get Mike to come with him, he shouldn’t have taken it so personally each time Mike refused. Of course he has a good reason to not want to come out here and birdwatch. Stan looks to Mike, who’s standing there, eyes cast downward as if he’s waiting for Stan to laugh at him.

He sighs. “You don’t have to do this, Mike. It’s okay.”

Mike shakes his head, eyes still downcast. “I want to. I think-“ He pauses, lifting his eyes to meet Stan’s. “I think if you’re with me, I can handle it.”

A swell of pride bursts in Stan’s chest. Mike really did think of him as someone important, as one of his best friends. He nods solemnly, although what he really wants to do is break into a grin and hug Mike close.

“If you ever need to leave, just let me know,” he says.

“I will.”

They start making their way toward Stan’s spot again, this time Stan makes sure to bump his arm and shoulder into Mike every so often, just to remind him that he’s there for him. As they get closer to the spot, Mike starts to tense up again and Stan grabs his hand.

“I’m right here,” he reminds Mike, his voice soft and low so he doesn’t startle him or the wildlife around them. Mike nods and they continue walking.

They finally arrive at the spot. It’s a small clearing, not unlike the one where the clubhouse entrance is, although this clearing is grassier, with wildflowers popping up everywhere. The trees are tall, their lowest branches so high up that Stan has to crane his neck back just to glimpse them. The sun is just peeking over the horizon and the first bird awakens, a chirp breaking the silence around them. Mike tenses again but instead of pulling away, he just grips Stan’s hand tighter.

Stan moves closer to him, his free hand gripping the binoculars he gave Mike. He adjusts it as best he can for the setting he remembers lets him see the closest branch on the oak tree. He raises the binoculars to Mike face, pausing before reaching his eyes.

“Just breathe and listen to my voice, okay?” He murmurs, hand still gripping Mike’s. He brings the binoculars up the last few inches and nudges Mike, prompting him to look through them. He watches Mike as a range of emotions sweeps across his face. First, it’s fear then nervousness and then, finally, wonder.

“They’re so pretty,” Mike breathes out, his hands coming up to grip the binoculars, his left coming to rest over Stan’s. “The colors are so soft.”

“What does it look like?” Stan hopes it’s a chimney swift but they’re becoming rare.

Mike giggles a little, his voice soft as a feather as he says, “It reminds me of you, if I’m being honest.”

Stan thinks he’s never heard a better compliment in his entire life. “Tell me what you see.”

“It’s blue, such a bright blue that it reminds me of the pictures of the ocean that Mr. Henderson at school showed us.” His voice gets quieter as more birds starting singing. “It’s got a white belly, like a marshmallow, and black wings that look so delicate.”

Mike pulls away from the binoculars and looks at Stan, his eyes glistening with tears. “It’s beautiful, Stan. Thank you.”

Stan blushes. His friends have never thanked him for birdwatching with them and even now, he thinks that Mike isn’t thanking him for that but he doesn’t push. “You’re welcome, Mike.” He raises his own binoculars and looks at the bird Mike was describing. “Looks like he’s a tree swallow. One of my favorites.”

The two of them spend the rest of the early morning birdwatching in silence, with the only noises being the wildlife around them and the occasional whisper for the other to look in a specific direction. Stan thinks to himself that birdwatching with Mike is now one of his favorite things.


End file.
